The Long Journey Home
by JulieM
Summary: Sequel to 'Close To Home.' COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Okay, been a while since I've posted anything, but trust me, I have been working hard!

Summary: Second part in a series, following on from 'Close To Home.'Suggest you check it out before reading this.This seriestakes place in an alternate world where Mattie still decided to move back with her Father, but never got hurt. The shipper ending we were all hoping for still will happen. It may take a while, but I will get there eventually...

Written from the point of view of many of the story's characters.

Spoilers: Just the epi where Mattie moved back in with her Dad. And if you want this story to make any sense, I suggest you read 'Closer To Home' first.

Disclaimer: JAG and its main characters belong to DPB and to CBS. I don't make any profit from writing any of these fics, but simply get to exercise my overactive imagination every now and then. Please don't sue me, as I'm poor with very little money!

Rating: Pretty much T (Due to some disturbing subject matter) Still, I think you'll like it anyway!

Category: H/M shipper.

The Long Journey Home

OOOOOO

Part 1

OOOO

PO Jen Coates

"Ma'am, would you like me to go and check in Commander Turner's office? Just in case he didn't pass it back to you," I ask, as Commander Rabb stands in the doorway, watching the two of us fuss over the mess on the colonel's desk.

"No," she tells me, her voice soft, though irritated, "I'm almost 100 positive that he gave it back to me…If I could only manage to get into some kind of routine with sorting my cases out as I go along…"

OOOO

Harm

I know it's been a long week for Mac. Sturgis got unexpectedly called out of the office on a personal matter and Mac had to pick up the case that he was supposed to be going to trial with, tomorrow. She's poured her heart into taking over this prosecution, a murder case against a twenty-eight year old sergeant had allegedly beaten his wife to death and dumped her body in woods near their home in Quantico. This piece of missing documentation was to be an important part of her case and she had to have it submitted with the rest of her evidence by 3pm today.

"Mac, how did you manage to lose a piece of evidence that you've been working with, just this morning?" I ask, curiously.

"I did not work with it today," she maintains as she rifles through a pile of disorganized sheets, "I was working with a photocopy of the document this morning. But I need the original to submit to the prosecution and the photocopy, with my notes on it just won't do."

I stand there a little bit longer and eventually Mac turns around and with a sigh, entreats to me, "Just go and check Sturgis' office for me, would you? I'm sure he doesn't still have it, but you never know…"

I turn around, wondering if she's really asking me for help, or just to get away from my scrutiny and judgment. It's true, her office does resemble a garbage tip, she really needs to spend some time organizing the mess on her desk. But at this time, it would be far from helpful to say just that and she has already acknowledged the need for a sort-out.

I'm stopped in my tracks by the sight of a little-person, entering the bullpen through the clear glass doors. Well, not a little-person exactly. I'd say around twelve or thirteen years of age or something around that. Most probably in junior high, judging from the back-pack. It's a dark shade of purple, adorned with iron-on transfers and badges, but not of rock-groups like older teenagers would have, but of what looks like Japanese cartoon characters. Hello Kitty and the likes. Quite cute, really…

"Hey," I smile at her softly, as her gaze falls on me, "Can I help you find somebody?"

Her deep brown eyes are wide and shiny, almost teary, but I can see no other outward signs that she is upset. Nervous, by the way she keeps fidgeting with her long, dark hair, but not upset, I don't think.

"Uh…" my hunch is proven correct, "Is Colonel MacKenzie on this floor? I'm sure she told me eight, but I can't really remember…"

"Yeah," I move to put her at ease, "That's her office just over there…you'll know you're in the right place when you find a mess of papers and hear the cursing."

The kid cracks a tiny smile at this, because Mac chooses that moment to let loose with some mild cuss words.

"Mac," I knock on her open door as she still has her head buried in mountains of papers, "you've got a visitor."

Giving the kid one last smile, I turn away and go to take care of looking for that document in Sturgis' office.

OOOO

Mac

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I ask Carol-Anne, "How come you're not in school?"

"It's an in-service day, today. The teachers had to go in, but we don't…"

I try to appear that I'm listening as I try to find that damn paper amongst all of this paperwork that has accumulated since I left town over four weeks ago. Sure, I've been back for nearly a week, but I've just been putting it off.

"Oh, okay," I nod, straightening up, but still looking around the room to find a place I still haven't searched, "Well, I don't want to rush you or anything, but I'm kind of rushed off my feet today and…"

"Oh," Carol-Anne utters softly, "sorry…I just…I wondered if you had time to talk about something. Paula's been pretty busy, because there are things going on at the house…anyway, I haven't been able to get to see my Mom these past couple of weeks, because her doctors say that she's not been doing so well on a combination of meds and they've had to try switching the different things around…They say that she has to be stable before I can go and see her. I just hoped that maybe you could convince the doctors to let me see her, if I had an adult accompanying me…"

Half-listening to the child, I continue to look around my office during this explanation.

"Carol-Anne," I eventually have to stop the girl, "I'm really sorry, but I don't think that the doctors are going to budge on their decisions. They've got procedure to follow and they could get into trouble if they make any exceptions…I know this is really hard for you, honey, but it's important for your Mom to have the time to herself in which to heal, before she can start giving her attention to others. Do you understand what I mean?"

"She has to have some time to focus just on her?" Carol-Anne's eyes are full of tears and her voice wavered slightly, but she was keeping it together remarkably well, despite the terrible strain she must be under.

"Yeah," I nod, adding softly, "and I really think you've done a great job so far of coping with all of this. I'm sure this is only going to be for a little while longer and soon your Mom is going to be able to have visitors again. And she's going to be proud of how strong you've been, too."

Carol-Anne just nods, morosely, so I add, "And in the meantime, if you need anything else, just give me a call, okay?"

She nods and goes to leave my office.

I resume my quest, moving to the big filing cabinet, clattering the drawers open.

OOOO

Harm

I'm on my way back from Sturgis' office, empty-handed, when I see the young girl regretfully about to exit Mac's office. She looks like she's of two minds, she's fidgeting with her hair again and deep in thought.

"Uh, Mac?"

She turns back at the last second, but is still in the doorway and even though I'm not actively listening, I hear what she says anyway.

"Yeah?" Mac replies, albeit distractedly, with her head in the files stored in the filing cabinets.

"Could…I mean, would…please…"

"Uh-huh…" Mac again replies, from the back of the drawer of the filing cabinet.

There is a pause, then Mac quietly curses, "Damn," closes the first drawer with a bang and moves to the next drawer, pulling it out with a clang.

Unfortunately, it comes just as the girl finally comes up with what has obviously been difficult for her to say.

"Can I have a hug?"

It is almost a whisper, but I still manage to catch it.

But Mac doesn't hear it.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't catch that…what did you say?" Mac speaks up, after a pause.

"Nothing," the girl dismisses, quietly, "It was nothing..."

She then adds, quietly, "It was stupid."

"Well, if you need anything, just let me know, okay?" Mac tells her.

"Yeah," the child tells her, before moving out the door, "Bye then."

But Mac is so absorbed in her hunt, she doesn't actually reply.

The girl passes me and offers a small (though nowhere near whole-hearted) smile, before she heads out the door.

OOOO

"Found it!" Mac virtually sings, as she prances out of her office, fifteen minutes later.

"Where was it?" I ask, with a small smile.

"In with those case notes for the case we signed off on, on Tuesday," She tells me, "Makes sense, figuring as that's the last time I can remember seeing this. Must have gotten mixed up with all of those pages."

"Was that the girl you're mentoring?" I ask about the child in her office.

"Yeah," she nods, "That was Carol-Anne. She's having a hard time without her Mom.

Mrs. Bailey has just had her medication changed, because the FDA just withdrew one particular medication. Now, her doctors are having trouble synchronizing all of the different meds so that they don't throw each other off or react with each other and until that's all sorted out, they don't want to let Carol-Anne in to see her."

"That's harsh," I note, "from what you told me, she's very close to her mother. First she's suffered her lashing out at her, then watched her being involuntarily institutionalized…the poor kid needs something to go her way."

As if she's just realized, Mac jumps out of her haze, asking, "Wait…where did she go?"

"Out to the elevator…she went more than ten minutes ago," I tell her.

"Damn, I was so involved with this," Mac curses, "I didn't even ask her if she had a lift home…"

She returns to her office, compiling the rest of the evidence she needs to submit, then grabs her cover and briefcase.

"I've got to go and submit all this to the defense," she tells me, "Do you want to go and have lunch once I get back?"

"Yeah, sure," I nod.

"Okay, well, I'm going to keep an eye out for Carol-Anne as I leave, see if she's still around. I just hope she's not tried anything dangerous. You know, her case-worker caught her trying to hitch-hike the other week…"

I manage a 'kids-will-be-kids' smile, contemplating the utter chaos that awaits me back on my own desk.

OOOOOO


	2. Chapter 2

OOOOOO

Part 2

OOOO

Mac

There is no sight of Carol-Anne as I leave JAG Headquarters, so I plan to call her in a while, to make sure that she got home okay.

I stop by the court building to drop off the evidence for the defense and silently congratulate myself on building such an iron-clad case. There's no way that this guy is ever going to be free again to repeat his sick crimes, once I'm through with the case.

Harm and I settle for a working lunch in the office, so we call in some take-out, while putting some ideas together on our next joint case.

"I found Carol-Anne, after you left," Harm mentions as we munch on shrimp rolls.

"Oh, where was she?" I ask, seeing as I didn't see hide nor hair of her before I left.

"Jen found her in the ladies toilets on the first floor," Harm tells me, "Jen was just returning an errand for the General and found Carol-Anne in there, getting herself all upset…She brought her back up here, to find you, but you'd already left at that point."

"Was she okay?" I ask, my face serious.

"She was just upset, she'd had been having a bad day and I think she needed somebody to talk to," Harm shrugs, but doesn't mean anything by the comment, I can tell.

But still, it feels a little painful as the unintended barb hits and I'm now regretting being so closed off with the poor girl.

"Sorry," Harm notices the flinch, "I didn't mean it that way. She's just a kid and I guess that all of this has just been too much for her. The timing of it all was just too bad, that's all."

"Yeah," I nod, "Poor thing. I'll give her a call this evening, once I've secured for the day. Did she tell you anything in particular?"

"She was actually pretty forthcoming," Harm nods and smiles and I know there must be something behind that veiled amusement.

At first he says nothing, but at my further prodding, he elaborates.

"Well, I asked Jen to come into the office with us, because I though she might feel more at ease with another female there and…Well, turns out she was perfectly at ease talking to me, regardless. First-off, she told me about her Mom and the situation with the doctors, then she said that her foster- Mom has been really busy and her case-worker is out of town. She said that the only kids around her age in the foster-home are apparently either 'just children,' 'just bitchy' or 'just clueless boys' so she didn't have anyone to talk to about her troubles who was mature and…well, it seems that the little girl I saw come into headquarters has actually become a little woman…"

As realization hits, I lift my hand to my mouth and I comprehend what should really have been more apparent to me at the time. I went through this with Chloë, I should have seen the signs. Instead, the poor girl was so desperate for somebody to talk to that she turned to my six-foot-four-inch, very-male, testosterone-secreting navy-commander partner and a female petty-officer, both of whom she doesn't know from Adam.

OOOO

Harm

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harm," Mac goes to apologize to me, "I really should have seen this…Damn why didn't I pay more attention…"

"It's okay, Mac," I wave off her apology and it really is okay, it is nothing that an adult man should be embarrassed about; it is a fact of life. Okay, I'm not a father, but I did have this talk, or something similar, with Mattie just in case before she moved back in with her Dad. She knew that she could come to me to talk about anything, so I had sort-of had the dialogue planned in my head. It took only a second of deliberation to dredge it up and refine it a bit, because Carol-Anne is quite a bit younger than Mattie, at least in terms of maturity.

"Besides," I add, "Jen did take care of the most of it. She was only too happy to help, knowing that Carol-Anne is the new 'little-sister' you were telling us about. She helped Carol-Anne get all sorted out," (thanks to the vending machines downstairs,) "then she dropped her home."

"Thank you so much for taking care of her, Harm," Mac squeezes my hand in appreciation, "I'm going to call her tonight, just to make sure she's okay. Everything's going to be so much better once I've pinned Petty Officer Molinez's six to the wall; hopefully I will be able to concentrate on other tasks as well."

"Not to worry, Mac," I assure her, before she leaves, to go back to her own office.

OOOO

Mac

"Yeah…" came the voice, above the noise of loud music.

"Hi, this is Colonel MacKenzie," I speak up, over the phone, "Is Paula there, please?"

"Paula's out of town," the voice told her, seemingly that of a teenage boy.

"Oh, okay. Well, is Rafael there, then?" I ask

Rafael is Paula's husband.

"He's out grocery shopping at the moment," the voice tells me again, "He should be a while…you Carol-Anne's big sister?"

"Yeah, that's me…I don't suppose she's around just now, is she?"

"Yeah, I think she's out back, doing her homework. Hang on a sec, I'll get her for you…"

I give a sigh of relief as I hear the phone being put down. The sounds of Metalica serenades me as I wait. No wonder Carol-Anne has chosen to do her homework out-back. Life in the house must be like living on a construction site.

"Mac?" Carol-Anne eventually picks up the phone.

"Hey, sweetie," I greet her, "How are you doing? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Carol-Anne began, then cut off, "Give me a second, will ya?"

"Sure," I reply, hearing Carol-Anne bellow at somebody in the background to turn the music down.

Once it has been turned down a few notches, we can talk without having to shout at one another.

"Sounds chaotic," I note.

"Yeah," Carol-Anne confirms, "With Paula at her Mom's and Raffie out, Kev is monopolizing the stereo. And it's always something heavy metal. I even couldn't hear myself think."

"I just wanted to apologize about how distracted I was today," I tell the young girl, "My workload has been sort of crazy, but I should have realized there was more wrong. I'm sorry."

"Could you tell your partner that I'm sorry I cried all over him?" Carol-Anne sounds a little embarrassed, "And the petty officer in your office, too. Jen?"

"Yep, well I spoke to them both," I reassure her, "and they both said that there was no problem at all. They were glad to help you. Besides, you know that Harm has a sort-of-teenage-daughter, himself. He's used to girl-talk going on around him."

"Is he still in touch with her?" Carol-Anne asks, "He did mention that she had gone back to living with her Father."

"He doesn't speak to her as much as he'd like," I shake my head, "But she's pretty busy with school and getting back into her old life."

"That's a shame," the girl notes.

"Maybe once she has settled back in at home, she'll start staying in better touch," I sigh, hopefully.

"Yeah, probably…" Carol-Anne agrees, then asks, "So, did you find what you were looking for?"

"This afternoon? Yeah," I nod, "As usual, it was mistakenly tucked in with something else…the usual. So, what are you up to?"

"Math homework," Carol-Anne sighs, "Definitely difficult enough without the distraction of heavy metal music blaring."

"Just you try and keep up with your school-work," I encourage her, "I know it seems hard, but just do the best you can. Your Mom will be proud when she sees your good report card."

"Yeah," the girl notes, quietly, "She will be…It's been months since she's been able to look at my report cards and go to parent-teacher meetings."

"As soon as she's stable," I tell her, "she'll be able to start getting back to all of those things."

"But what about moving home?" the girl asks, "When will I be able to go home?"

"I don't know," I tell her, honestly, "Your case worker will have a part in deciding that, but it all depends on how your Mom gets on, once her medication is stabilized."

"Hmm," Carol-Anne muses, slightly distractedly.

"So, have you got plans for next month?" I ask, about the girl's upcoming twelfth birthday.

"No, not really," she replies, "I kinda want to do something with my Mom, but her doctors won't tell me if she's going to be able to leave the hospital by then."

"If you wanted to go out somewhere," I offer, "I could take you out. Of course, you'll want to spend the day with your Mom, but if you wanted to do anything else, later on. Maybe go shopping or something."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Carol-Anne agrees, but notes, "Maybe Mom will be home by then and she can come too."

"Yeah, well," I tell her, "we'll see what happens, okay? But if you have any more problems, don't hesitate to call me."

"Yeah, okay," I can tell that she is trying not to think about more going wrong in her life, at this point.

"Or even if there's nothing wrong, but you just want to talk," I add, trying to give her the support she doubtless needs, but knowing I can't push it on her.

OOOOOO


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I'm going to put a warning for subject matter on this part. Read on at your own disgression...

OOOOOO

See part 1 for disclaimer

Part 3

OOOO

Jen

"Have you spoken to your little sister lately, Ma'am?" I ask my Superior Officer, one day as I help her with filing all of the case files she has worked through over the past week.

"I spoke to Carol-Anne a little over a week ago," she nods, "She's doing a little better. Her Mom's still undergoing treatment, but she's able to go and see her more often."

"Any news about when she's going to be discharged?" I ask.

"Not so far," The Colonel shakes her head, "but Carol-Anne is really hoping that she'll be home in time for her birthday, in three weeks time. I'm trying to warn her not to get her hopes up, but I don't want to get her any more down than she already is. She's just starting to get things together again."

"It's hard, Ma'am," I sympathize, "But hopefully things will turn out for the better."

"I hope so," she nods as we finish the filing, "Thanks, Jen. That would have taken me twice as long without your help."

"Whatever I can do to help, Ma'am," I smile, as she dismisses me to get back to some work for other officers and for the general.

OOOO

Harm

"I can't wait to get home to a nice hot bath and a warm bed," Mac sighs as we disembark the military plane that has brought us home.

It's been nearly two weeks and Mac has been getting very antsy as the days have counted down to her little sister's birthday. We are still five days away, but it's becoming just too close for comfort for Mac. She really wanted to plan the day down to the last detail, before we got our orders to report to a carrier in the Adriatic Sea. We've been so far away and busy as well that she's hardly had any chance to speak to Carol-Anne. But the girl seems to be keeping her spirits up, so that's encouraging.

"Is it still okay to get a ride home?" I ask with a smile.

"Of course it is," Mac replies with that patented 'Mac look,' "I'm sure I can wait another hour or so to get home. Your house?"

"Actually, if it's okay, could we drop by Bud and Harriet's?" I ask, remembering the files I need to get from Bud, to read over the weekend. I'm sure that I'll have a bad case of jet-lag, so why spend all of those sleepless hours doing nothing?

"You want to get case files to read?" Mac asks, incredulously when I explain my reasoning.

"Hey," I object, "As an insomniac, I'd think you'd understand the problem."

"I'm sorry, I do," she tells me, "but if you have any trouble sleeping, why don't you take some sleeping tablets?"

"I don't like putting that sort of stuff into my body, Mac," I explain to her, "I don't often have trouble sleeping, but when I do I try to get through it without medication."

"Suit yourself," she shakes her head, "I have the feeling that I'm not going to need anything to help me sleep."

I must agree with her, the case we've just gotten finished with (her prosecuting and I defending) has been a nasty one, one that I'm sure has kept her awake at night. I feel a little sorry for her, because her last case was just a nasty (I murder case involving of petty officer murdering his wife, and as she later discovered, in front of their own children.

I really hope that Mac manages to catch some easier-going cases over the next couple of weeks, because the past few have been disturbing and draining, physically and mentally.

"Do you mind if I borrow your cell phone?" I ask, "Mine is dead."

It was really stupid to bring the wrong charger for my cell phone with me on this investigation, the one that only works intermittently and has the temperament of a teenager.

"Sure," she hands it to me and I switch it one.

"You've got voicemail," I tell her, checking the screen before I dial Bud and Harriet's number.

"Thanks," she says and concerns herself with getting the car started and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

I speak to Bud and find out that it is no problem to drop by their house to collect those files I handed over to Bud before we left.

Fifteen minutes later, we are parked in their driveway. I decide to quickly drop in, while Mac waits in the car, for it really is too late to impose on their hospitality and all of the children will be in bed. I leave Mac checking her voicemail and I exit the car and make my way to the Roberts' front door.

After a quickly conversation with them both and getting the case files from Bud, I return to the car. Mac is sitting silently in her seat, staring at her cell phone. But regardless of her silence, I can tell instantly by her pallor and her general demeanor that everything is not okay.

"I need to go to Georgetown Hospital," she tells me, quietly, looking at me with grave eyes, "Paula's been trying to get a hold of me all evening…"

OOOO

"The ICU is up on the seventh floor," the nurse tells us when we tell her Carol-Anne's name at the main reception desk, "Just check in with one of the nurses on the desk and they'll bring you to the unit waiting room."

The elevator ride is silent, until I reach over and take Mac's hand in mine. Then, as if she's only just realizing that I'm there with her, she breaks out of the shock and looks me straight in the eye.

"Oh, I'm sorry Harm," she begins to apologize, "You need to get home…"

"Hey," I tell her firmly, squeezing her hand within mine, "I'm don't need to be anywhere but here, with you."

With that issue settled, the elevator arrives at the seventh floor and we head out and to the left.

Once we get to the nurse's desk we are met by Paula, who has been taking a break from the dull waiting room, to get a cup of coffee. The poor woman looks extremely sleep-deprived and I remember Mac telling me earlier in the week that Paula's just gotten back from a trip to care for her elderly mother in Wisconsin.

"Paula," Mac asks, careful to remain sensitive, "can you…could you tell me what happened? Please…all you said was that Carol-Anne is here and that she's very sick…"

Paula takes a sip from her coffee, which looks scalding hot, judging from her steam coming off it, but the woman seems to be working on auto-pilot and doesn't seem to notice if it is burning her. With a deep breath, she steels herself and begins;

"I had to get Kev and some of the other boys to break down the bathroom door…"

OOOO

Six hours earlier…

Paula

"Kev," I sigh for what seems like the fiftieth since I have arrived home, "Please could you turn that music down?"

Usually I'm quite good at communicating with the kids, even the boys, but today I really can't find the energy. Thank goodness the rest of the kids have been so quiet, because I really couldn't deal with any other dramas today.

"Is Carol-Anne home?" I ask Kev, but he shrugs.

"How about Jimmy?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head this time, "he stayed at the skate park when I came home. I offered him a ride, but he wanted to hang out with the 'dawgs' for a while longer."

I can't help but laugh at Kevin's choice of words. James or 'Jimmy,' as he prefers to be known, is at an extremely sensitive age just now that he has to fit the precise mold dictated by the rest of his peers. Kev is wont to tease him about it and often picks up some of the lingo that Jimmy and his friends use. Kev is into skateboarding himself, but is very much his own person and won't be defined by anything or anyone, abounding in self-confidence. I hope some of his self-confidence rubs off on the other kids; goodness knows some of them could use it.

"Okay," I nod, trying not to let my stress levels rise any more at Kevin's news about Jimmy, "did he say what time he'd be home?"

"I got him to promise that he'd home before dinner," Kev tells me, with a smile. Despite the age-gap, we do get on quite well and he's really a good kid at heart, despite the (mostly petty) trouble he gets into at school.

"PAULA!" my new-found peace is shattered, "Tell Carol-Anne to get out of the bathroom!"

Jenny appears from the direction of the bedrooms off of the living room, looking fit to be tied.

"What's up, Jen?" I sigh, trying to get the girl to calm down.

Jenny is sixteen, a year younger than Kev and she has very little patience for those younger than her. She and Carol-Anne have butted heads on a couple of occasions, but the younger girl was rarely the instigator and it seemed that she had never purposely meant to annoy Jen.

"She's hogging the bathroom," Jen complains, "I need to get in to color my hair, or I'm not going to be ready for Cal picking me up."

"What time is Cal picking you up?" I ask, taking a look at my own watch to see what time it is.

"Six-thirty," she tells me, "but I've still got to have dinner first."

"Well, how about giving her ten minutes?" I suggest, trying not to show how weary I sound, "I'm sure she'll finish what she is doing and then leave the bathroom for you to color your hair…what color is it this time?"

"Electric blue," she tells me, with a sneer on her face and it takes me a second to figure out that she's teasing me.

Damn, I'm tired.

"Alright, alright," I hold my hands up in surrender, 'It's your hair and your prerogative to walk around looking like a piñata, but don't come crying to me when it starts falling out…"

I don't get the chance to say anymore, because I'm cut off by Jeremy, who's fourteen, charging into the fray.

"Paula!" he complains, "Where's my shirt?"

"What shirt?" I ask, humoring him.

"The 'Krows' one," he asks, "It's black, with a hood…."

"Did you put it in the laundry hamper?" I ask him.

"No…" he states, as if it's logical that I can just sniff out every piece of dirty laundry in this house, like a sniffer dog and magically have it washed and pressed (or in his case not; he hates it when I iron his clothes,) ready for him to use.

"Then it's probably in that pig-sty called your bedroom," I tell him, holding my finger up to silence him when he goes to complain, "If you expect anything to get washed, you either put it in the laundry hamper, or if it is really important, wash it yourself…You know how busy I've been. I don't have the time to slave around after you all. You're all big enough ("And ugly enough," Kev jokingly drops in.) to operate the washer and dryer."

Jeremy gives a huff and stalks off towards his room.

"Is she _still_ in there?" I hear him exclaim as he passes past the bathroom, "She's been in there for _hours_!"

"Jeremy," I tell him, "Stop exaggerating. Just find yourself another shirt to wear. Goodness knows you've got plenty of other black ones."

He seems to think that there is no need to dignify this with an answer, for the slamming of his bedroom door is the only reply I get. I give a sigh and set about beginning the preparations for dinner, but am glad when Kev comes and gives me a hand with peeling the vegetables.

"Thanks Kev," I thank the almost fully-grown man.

He just gives me a non-committal grunt, but seems to display no hostility, so I think he may actually be empathizing with my near-exhausted state.

OOOOOOO


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Just a quick warning for emotive subject matter…

OOOOOOO

See part 1 for disclaimer…

Part 4

OOOO

Ten minutes later, as I'm setting a pan of water to boil, Jenny returns with more complaints about Carol-Anne (randomly accented with swear words.)

"She's still in there!" the teenage girl huffs, "I swear, if she's not out of there in two _bleep _minutes, I'm gonna break the _bleep_ door down, go in and drag her out by the…"

"Jen," I cut her off, "Give her five minutes…"

I'm hoping she was going to finish by saying something relatively benign like 'hair,' (yes, that is benign, at least for Jen) I'm really not sure though, but we get distracted from Jen's tirade by Aaron's arrival in the kitchen.

"Is dinner ready yet?" he asks, "I'm starved."

One thing about having four adolescent boys, one near-adult and one fully grown man living in the house is that meals are often made in bulk and we go through food like it's going out of style. These boys are _always_ hungry.

"If you don't do something about her right now…" Jen is fed up of being outside of the attention zone.

"Jen, I said just give her a few minutes," I placate, wearily, "And Aaron, if you're so hungry, why don't you come here and help cut these carrots. Pitch in and maybe dinner will be ready just that bit sooner…"

I soon loose patience with getting the boy involved, for I not only have to remind him to wash his hands before he starts handling the food, but also have to admonish him for eating the carrots almost a fast as he is chopping them.

"Aaron," I warn him again, while I'm tending to the sauce that is simmering along with the water for boiling the vegetables.

"Paula!" Jen interrupts again, "She's still…"

"Enough!" I lose my rag.

"Wait," Aaron speaks up, quietly, "Is she complaining about Carol-Anne?"

"Yes," Jen is glad to finally get somebody on her side, "She's hogging the only bathroom in the house and all that Paula can say is, 'Give h..."

"But she's was in there ages ago," Aaron interrupts, "She went to get a shower…I nearly walked in on her…"

"No," Jen huffs, "she's in there now and I've knocked on the door and yelled at her like _ten_ times now!"

"No," Aaron argues, checking his watch for the time, "she was about to wash her hair when I tried to get in over an hour and a half ago. She can't still be in there…"

"She is," Jen insists and points an accusing finger at me, "And _she_ won't do anything…"

"I have a name you know," I tell her, but only half paying attention, "Aaron, would you go and knock on the door, to see if Carol-Anne's still in there, please?"

He disappears for a few minutes and returns.

"Well, the door's locked," he tells me, "but I don't know if it's her. She won't answer me…"

"Of course it's her," Jen scoffs, 'She's always the one causing…"

Kev cuts her off, "She's the only one who isn't here, apart from James and Tammy, but Jimmy's at the skate park…"

"Tammy's at her friend's house for a sleep-over," I finish the inventory of kids in the family. Tammy is only a couple of years younger than Carol-Anne, but the two of them aren't really that close, being quite a distance apart in terms of maturity.

I put aside the dinner preparations and make my way through the living room, down the hall to the bathroom, opposite Kev's room.

Knocking loudly on the door, I ask, "Carol-Anne? You okay in there?"

Jenny gives a derisive scoff behind me but I choose to ignore her.

"Carol-Anne?" I ask again, "Jen needs to use the shower, honey."

There's still no answer and now I'm starting to get worried.

"Aaron," I call the boy, "Just go outside to the bathroom window and see if the top section has been left open. If it is, try and get Carol-Anne's attention by shouting. Maybe she can't hear us over the shower. And cover your eyes. If she thinks you're perving on her, she'll really blow a fuse."

"Don't I know it," the boy mumbles, shaking his head.

Aaron dutifully disappears and before long, I can hear him calling from the outside of the house, but there is no interruption in the noise of the shower. Surely all of the hot water must be gone by now?

When Aaron reappears, Jimmy is with him.

"I tried to give Aaron a bunk up to the window," he tells me, "but he couldn't fit through."

"Did you call her?" I ask.

"Yes," Aaron tells me, "we both did, but she didn't answer, so I decided to risk losing my eyes…"

"Did you see her?" I ask, impatiently.

"No, I didn't," Aaron shakes his head, "she must be lying in the bath tub or something, if she's even still in there. The curtain's drawn. Do you think the door could be locked and then closed over, even if nobody was in there…"

But the previous comment really does get my heart racing, so I give one good set of thumps on the door before I instruct Kev, Jimmy and Jeremy to break it down.

"Can I break it down too?" Aaron just looks excited at the prospect.

"No!" I tell him, my patience now gone, replaced by sky-rocketing anxiety, "On the count of three."

The three boys get into place, shoulders facing the door.

"One, two, three…"

OOOO

Six hours later…

Mac

"We found her in the bath tub," Paula continues, "She'd tried to plug the drain-hole," (one of the kids apparently melted the plug long ago,) "but the towel must have come free. She'd turned the shower on full and lay down in the tub. The doctors think she took an overdose of the painkillers that Rafael keeps in the top of the cabinet…I never even thought she knew where he kept those…The house is so small and so busy, we're all virtually living on top of one-another…"

"It's okay, Paula," I go to comfort the woman, but she's having none of it. I think she's trying to stay in control of this situation any way she can, "The doctor did some tests, but I didn't understand much of what he told me…I just want to see her…"

"How did the doctor describe her condition as being?" I ask.

"Well, the doctors aren't sure exactly how long ago she took the pills, so they can't be sure that pumping her stomach got rid of all of the painkillers," Paula sniffles and daps her eyes with a sodden Kleenex, "They're giving her something intravenously, but she's on a respirator, because she's not breathing by herself."

"Is Rafael here with you?" Harm asks, obviously concerned that Paula might have been on her own, all this time.

"He's at home with the kids," she tells us, "He had to go and pick up Tammy from her friend's house. I think he's taking care of dinner…"

"Is there anybody we can call for you?" I insist.

But her only reply relates to Carol Anne's social worker and Vivienne Westbrook.

"Um, Tessa, probably…and maybe Vivienne, but I wasn't sure, because of the time…" Paula hesitates.

"Tessa Bowbridge is Carol-Anne's social worker and Vivienne works for 'Big Sisters'," I tell Harm, as Paula roots her address book out of her handbag.

We are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a doctor dressed in surgical scrubs.

"Mrs. Mason?" he asks, approaching us.

"Yes," Paula steps forward, "That's me…How is Carol-Anne?"

"We've just completed some more tests, to assess her physical capabilities; that is to breathe without the respirator…but I'm afraid there has been no change in her condition since our last assessment, a few hours ago," he completes, in one big breath.

The guy must be used to dealing with situations like this, he seems practiced, almost slick at delivering his speech.

"At this point," the doctor continues, "I think we should consider doing some more tests to assess her brain function…"

I let out a little gasp and Paula seems to realize that neither Harm nor I really had any idea that the situation was quite this bad.

"Doctor Hanson," she quickly introduces us to the doctor, "This is Colonel Sarah MacKenzie and Commander Harmon Rabb. They are good friends of mine and of Carol-Anne's. I'm sure they would appreciate it if you could explain to them what you told me, earlier."

The doctor obliges her request.

"Well, Colonel, Commander," he begins, "our primary tests showed that there was an enormous amount of medication absorbed by Carol-Anne's body, despite our efforts to flush her stomach. She also had no response to any painful stimulus, which is how we test patients who present in a vegetative state…"

"You mean comatose?" I ask, willing the tears to stay at bay.

"Yes, that would be correct, Ma'am," the doctor confirms, "We have since tested her to see if she can breathe without the assistance of the respirator. I'm afraid she showed no response to withdrawal of oxygen whatsoever…"

"Wait!" Harm speaks up, "Isn't that dangerous in itself? Depriving her of oxygen?"

"No," the doctor assures me, "not for the short time that we switch the respirator off. In patients sustaining less severe trauma, we'd expect to see the body's own natural response kick in; namely, her breathing reflex, just like the body's natural response to withdraw from pain. But I'm afraid we didn't see either of those reflexes in Carol-Anne's case. At this point in time, I think we need to investigate what state her brain's ability to function is in."

"You mean she might be brain-dead?" My throat seems to close up as I say the words. Harm takes my hand in his, giving it a supportive squeeze.

"I don't think we should start borrowing trouble before we have the chance to investigate," the doctor assures us, "But a CAT scan would give us an answer, either way."

Paula nods her head, looking near to losing it, herself.

"Okay doctor," she tells the man after a short pause to consider, then turns to Harm and I, "I think I've got a lot of calls to make…"

OOOO

Over the next two hours, the waiting room becomes a lot more crowded, as various people start showing up in response to Paula's phone calls. We still haven't managed to get in to see Carol-Anne, because the doctors are preparing her to be moved downstairs for the scan.

Paula and Rafael are now sitting across from us, looking lost in their own thoughts. Up until now, Tessa Bowbridge, Carol-Anne's social worker, has been trying to comfort and reassure them, but I suspect that she has now run out of steam. Kevin, the eldest of the kids living with Paula and Rafael is now here, along with three of the other boys, but I'm not sure which ones, I suspect the eldest ones. Apparently, the younger children are back at Paula and Rafael's house, under the care of Jenny, who seems to have changed her plans tonight.

"When are they taking Carol-Anne for the tests?" the youngest boy speaks up.

"Any time now," Rafael tells him then we all return to silence.

It is another ten minutes before Vivienne Westbrook arrives, who Paula called, so that she could get in touch with the unit caring for Carol-Anne's mother.

"How is she?" Vivienne takes a seat beside me, but directs her question towards Paula.

Paula tells the details once again, but they have just as much of an impact as when she told them to Rafael and the boys, and then Tessa, after them.

"The doctors are taking her downstairs for a CAT scan…They want to be sure what they're dealing with…There's a chance that Carol-Anne might not have brain activity…"

God, those words still sound just as terrible as the first time we heard them.

But those words are nothing compared to the sight of Carol-Anne when they wheel her out of the ICU. She looks positively tiny in the bed, surrounded by all of the tubes and portable equipment around her. I feel Harm take my hand in his and squeeze it tight as he has done many times over the past couple of hours. To the right of us, Rafael has his arm around his wife and her head is turned into him, even though her eyes rest upon the small figure in the bed. The boys look just as upset, particularly the youngest two, who dissolve into tears there and then. And despite the tears that I feel collecting in my eyes, I refuse to let my own walls come down, utilizing everything my Marine training has provided me with. I need to be strong, for there are others here who will be relying on my support in the hours to come.

OOOOOOO


	5. Chapter 5

OOOOOOO

See part 1 for disclaimer…

Part 5

OOOO

Harm

"Is she back up yet?" Tessa asks, when she returns from using the pay-phone.

Paula shakes her head, but asks, "Did you manage to speak to Mrs. Bailey's doctors."

Tessa nods her head, telling us, "Yes, and I think I'm starting to understand a bit more about this all, now. The doctor was very upset when I told him about Carol-Anne, but he explained to me that Carol-Anne had been eager to find out about her Mother's condition when she was at the centre, today. She wanted to know if her Mother was going to be out of hospital in time for her birthday, next week…"

"The doctor told her no," Paula figures the answer out.

Tessa nods, confirming her suspicion.

"Yeah, he told her that as much as he'd like to, he just couldn't discharge Cheryl when her condition was still so fragile. He told Carol-Anne that she was welcome to come and spend the day with her mother at the center, but there was just no question of her leaving in-patient care. He really didn't realize just how upset Carol-Anne was about the news he gave her."

Paula sighs and drops her head into her hands. Rafael leans forward and places a hand to the back of her neck, rubbing comfortingly.

When Paula has pulled herself back together, she looks to where the boys are still sitting next to them.

"Kev," she tells the oldest boy, "I want you to take Jeremy and Jimmy home. There's no sense in us all waiting for news…Raffie, do you want to go with them?"

But the boys do not give Rafael a chance to say anything.

"No, I'm staying here…"

"I'm not going anywhere…"

"I'm not going home…"

Paula gives a sigh, but doesn't seem to have to energy to argue. Rafael takes her hand within his, communicating his intentions as well. The group settles down to wait for the doctors to return Carol-Anne to the ICU.

OOOO

Mac

Some of us have dozed off by the time that Carol-Anne's doctor reappears.

Once Paula is awake and alert again, he tells her, "Good news, Mrs. Mason. Carol-Anne's brain function seems to be intact. Not strong, like we'd expect if a person were awake, but strong for an individual who presents in a vegetative state. At this point, we cannot tell why exactly she isn't responding to stimuli, but we do know that her brain functioning isn't permanently impaired."

"So what do we do now, doctor?" Rafael speaks up, on behalf of his wife, who seems lost for words just now.

"I'm afraid, other than what we are already doing," the doctor tells us, "there's little else we can do. We're going to continue the treatment and monitor her condition, but Carol-Anne's going to have to do the rest on her own."

And with those monumental words, we are all left on our own again.

OOOO

It is nearly five by the time we get to Harm's place.

"Hey," he invites me in, softly, "Why don't you come in and crash for a while?"

"No," I shake my head, "I'm just going to go home, shower and get ready for…"

"Mac," Harm objects, "you really can't go into work after getting almost no sleep, all last night…and we're just back from investigation…"

"Actually," I tell him, "I was just going to go into headquarters, request some time off from the General and go back to the hospital…"

Harm seems surprised I'm going to request time off, but then again, I've had a bad enough time over the past few weeks and now with Carol-Anne, I really don't think I could continue to function at all if I tried to get on with work as usual. Maybe in times past, but I really can't, now. I'm past pretending that I'm made of tin and don't have emotions. After Paraguay, the un-death of Webb and the time I spent in counseling, I'm past the point where I just bottle my emotions away. The past year has been a hard one, dredging up all of the past issues I stuffed away inside me all of these years and working through them, resolving them. There's no way I can go back to hoarding my emotions. It's the pathway to self-destruction.

"Good," Harm nods, "do you want me to come with you, to see the General?"

"Yes," I tell him, "because you should ask for some time off, as well. At least today, so you can catch up on your sleep…"

"Maaac…" he goes to object, I can tell by the way he is drawing my name out like that.

"I mean it, Harm," I cut him off, "We go in there, report on the investigation findings, explain what has happened since and request some personal time. Believe me, trying to carry on as normal just isn't going to work. Not when we're both this tired."

There's no way he can convince me otherwise, I can see the dark rings underneath his eyes, they're as clear as day.

Eventually he relents.

"Okay," he nods, "but if I'm taking time off, I want to go to the hospital with you."

I can't argue with that point. He's about as involved in this as I am. If our positions were switched, I'd want him to allow me to support him as much as I could. And with Mattie back to living with her father, he's taken more of an interest in how things have been going for Carol-Anne.

"Okay," I nod, "I'll meet you at headquarters later, then?"

"Okay," he agrees, "see you at 0730?"

"See you then," I smile and turn to make the journey home.

OOOO

Harm

"Enter!"

Well, it's 0732 and Mac and I are outside the General's office and luckily he is able to see us straight away.

He seems very please with the job we did on our last assignment.

"Very messy business, very messy," he shakes his head, "But the two of you managed to handle it well. The SECNAV is very pleased, as well. The two of you seem worn out…I take it the case affected you out of work hours, too?"

"Yes, Sir," I nod, telling our CO, "As you said, it was very messy business, even before we were brought into it and the Colonel and I had to work hard to make sure things didn't degrade further…The details of the case itself are disturbing enough, Sir."

The General nods his head.

"Sir," Mac takes her turn, "may the Commander and I respectfully request a favor?"

"You two need some personal time…separate personal time, of course," the General is not only on the ball today, but also showing traces of humor.

Regretfully,Macand I are in no mood for his humor today.

"Uh, yes, Sir,"I tell him, "of course, but…"

"What the Commander is trying to say, Sir, is that upon our arrival at Norfolk, last night, our presence was requested at the hospital in Georgetown. A friend of mine is in a very serious condition there and unfortunately the Commander got dragged along for the ride…"

"I chose to attend, Sir,"I interrupt, "This is a friend of my own, also, though I do not know her as well as the Colonel…"

"Oh," the General's jolly mood disappears as quickly as it materialized, "I'm sorry to hear that…an accident, Colonel?"

"You could say that, Sir,"she chosesher words carefully, "Although we do not know all the details involved, it appears to be a case of attempted suicide…"

The General seems taken aback, but manages to speak through his shock.

"Very, very sorry to hear that, Colonel, Commander…Of course, take the time you need, I'll try to make do here without the two of you for as long as I can. And again, my sincere regrets. Do let me know how your friend is doing, though."

"Thank you, Sir," we both salute him as he dismisses us and retreat to our offices, to wrap up what work we can and pass the rest off to other staff-members. Luckily all members of staff are currently here, so the General is not even more short-handed than he has been over the past couple of weeks.

OOOO

"Any change?" Mac asks, when we join Paula and Rafael, who have been at the hospital since we left, last night.

"A slight improvement in her vital signs," is the good news, "but only slight."

Over the next hour, Mac and I manage to convince Paula and Rafael to go home and get some sleep and see the other kids. They finally agree, when Tessa arrives back and tells them the same thing. Hopefully, they won't be back before midday and will manage to get some good sleep. In the meantime, we'll keep an eye out for the doctor on duty, who began rounds a couple of hours ago. With a last promise to call if there is any more important news, we bid the Masons goodbye.

A couple of hours pass slowly and I catch Mac dozing off once or twice. Finally, the nurse comes to us with some news we can really digest.

"Dr Thomas has detected a marked improvement in Carol-Anne's EEG readings," she tells us, "He'll be out in just a minute to talk to you, but I think it's safe to say that this is what we've been waiting for."

The doctor tells us as much.

"There's been an improvement in Carol-Anne's condition. An EEG has showed us that her brain activity is much more like those of a person unconscious, rather than that of a person comatose. I think the medication may be finally leaving her system. In cases of overdose involving painkillers like Carol-Anne's it is common for the patient to lapse into coma and for their breathing to shut down. That's the effect painkillers are supposed to have upon the Central Nervous System. But in huge quantities, it will have a devastating effect upon the brain stem, which controls breathing and other important bodily functions. But it's always difficult to know if brain function has been permanently compromised, especially if oxygen deprivation is possible, like in this case. We've continued treatment overnight and I think we're now starting to see the benefits. However, it's going to take longer to ascertain whether any secondary organ damage has taken place."

"But if she's emerging from the coma, that's good, right?" I ask then feel a little foolish; of course that is a good sign.

The doctor seems to understand what a long night we've all had and smiles, sympathetically.

"Yes," he confirms, nodding, "it's a very good sign. Are any of you in touch with Carol-Anne's mother?"

"I am," Tessa tells him, explaining, "At the moment Mrs. Bailey is a patient at a psychiatric care facility in Virginia. But I'm in contact with her doctors, who are breaking the news gradually to her. I'm sure they'll be very glad to hear that Carol-Anne's condition is improving. If you'll excuse me, I think I should go and make the call."

As Tessa disappears, Mac and I talk to the doctor for a minute or two longer, about the time-period we're looking at for Carol-Anne to wake up within.

"I really can't say for certain," Doctor Thomas tells us, "But I suspect that she should regain consciousness within the next day or two."

"So you don't think that it will be within the next few hours?" Mac asks him.

"It would be unlikely," the doctor shakes his head, "given the rate of her recovery so far. Her last exam was last night, which Doctor Hanson conducted, but I suspect the improvement has been taking place since then. I think she should be unconscious for another day or so, but perhaps we might be able to take her off the ventilator as soon as tomorrow."

We both thank the doctor then debate about whether we should call Paula and Rafael. It's only 1020 and if they're getting some sleep, it probably wouldn't do them any harm to put the call off for an hour or so. In the end, once we've discussed it with Tessa, we agree to give it until 1130 then call them. There might even possibly be more good news before then.

OOOO

Paula

"Where are the Colonel and the Commander?" I ask, as I spot Tessa in the waiting area.

"They're just spending some time with Carol-Anne," Tessa tells me, "The doctor said they could go in just after Colonel MacKenzie called you. But they'll only be a couple of minutes more. They knew you and Raffie would want to see her right away."

She's right and Harm and Mac appear just a couple of minutes later.

"How is she?" I ask Mac, nervously.

"She's looking better," she tells me, "the doctor thinks we might even be able to take her off the ventilator as soon as tomorrow. And he seems to think it is only a matter of time before she wakes up, if her brain activity continues to improve as it has since last night."

Beside me, I hear a whoosh of a breath being exhaled. After a second, I realize that it actually came from me. Rafael puts his arms around my waist to steady me as I get my faculties back.

"Oh, thank God…"

"She's going to be okay," Raffie comforts me, softly, "she'll be alright, Paula."

"Can we go in to see her?" I ask, eagerly and Mac nods and shows Rafael and I the way.

"She does look better, doesn't she?" I ask Mac, as we enter the room.

Last night she looked so pale, so lifeless (I suppose she essentially was, or at least would have been without the aid of the machines doing her body's work for her. Now, her skin has more color to it, though her dark hair is still a stark contrast against it. I brush the soft dark strands where they lie, framing her face. Mac's probably been doing the same thing since she and Harm were let in here.

"She looks much better," Mac nods in agreement.

She pauses for a couple of minutes, studying the pre-teen girl before bringing herself back to action and leaving.

"I'll just be outside," she tells us, quietly, "Doctor Thomas said that he'd come and check on her again in an hour or so."

I nod, but just go about fussing over Carol-Anne, the only thing I can think of doing in order to keep my hands busy.

OOOO

Mac

"Did you call the center?" I ask, rejoining Harm and Tessa in the waiting room.

Tessa nods.

"The doctors were very encouraged to hear the good news," she reveals, "They've been trying to break the news slowly to Cheryl, so it doesn't overwhelm her. For now, she only needs to know Carol-Anne's current state. There'll be time to let her know just how serious her condition was, but not until she's more stable and able to handle it. But I think that we need to start considering the best way to help Carol-Anne."

Harm and I nod. We both know that this is going to be an exceedingly difficult and long path.

"I'd like to ask you a favor," Tessa asks, taking both Harm and I by surprise, "It's not that Paula hasn't been doing the best she can, but she's so busy with caring for the other children, too…Mac, could you take Carol-Anne for a while?"

It takes me a while to find my breath.

"You want me to take her home with me?" I stare at the woman, as if thinking that she can't possibly be serious.

"Just until we can get her home with her Mom," Tessa adds.

"But we have no idea how long that'll be," I point out.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't think this was the best thing for her," Tessa tells me, "She's going to be in the hospital for a while, but once she's ready to be released…you have a close bond with her, you seem to understand what she's going through…"

"I come from a broken family, myself," I tell her, but question, "but I work full-time. How can I possibly provide her with the stability she needs, right now?"

"Is there any way you can take some time off work?" Tessa asks, "Of course, you will be compensated for it…"

"It's not about the money," I tell her, "If I take her home with me, how on earth am I going to help her get through this? She tried to take her own life…her burden has just increased substantially. This is going to stay with her forever."

Tessa just looks at me as if she doesn't know quite what to say.

"I can't answer that for you," she eventually speaks up, quietly, "At this moment, I can only tell you that you are the best thing for her and that I can't find any other alternative other than handing her over to a new set of strangers…"

And so, we just sit in silence, as I pour through all of the conflicting thoughts in my head.

"Alright," I tell her, after a few minutes to think, "Okay…"

TBC – The story will be continued in 'Homeward Bound.' Working on it as we speak, shouldn't be too long, now…Jules


End file.
